


Annulment

by Cazio



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Partner, Betrayal, Cheating, Emotional Abuse, Fluff, M/M, Partner Betrayal, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:35:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cazio/pseuds/Cazio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Three strikes,” the Captain said suddenly, looking to him. “Give him three more chances. That’s it.”</i>
  <br/><i>The thunderer swallowed thickly, gripping his mug tighter. The ceramic began to crack beneath his powerful grip, but he did not notice. “He will need more than that.”</i>
  <br/><i>“He doesn’t deserve more than that.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because I apparently love torturing my bbys.

He stood in the rain and cold, staring at the door. A long rumble of thunder broke through the soft patter of raindrops just as another flash of lightning illuminated the living quarters in front of him. He did not mind the rain, it was a piece of his power, and a necessary partner. Slow breaths escaped his lungs as he heard the thud of footsteps behind the doorway. Light washed over the porch in a golden color that reminded him of his home. Thor swallowed, looking up to the sound of Steve Rogers sighing. 

“Again?”

He hated that question, but nodded with a small smile. “It appears our bed will be occupied tonight without my presence.” Not Steve’s bed. He was referring to his brother’s bed. His lover, who was a realm away doing god knows what. The demand had been simple, “Get out.” Since the incident on Midgard a few years prior, his brother had not been the same. In the months of his brother’s imprisonment, Thor had visited Loki each and every day without fail. It had taken months of constant care to bring the Jotun prince to speak to him again, but when they did their words were soft. Thor had realized that their affections were no longer brotherly, but something more. Something better. The first time their lips met in the dank confines of the prison...he still shivered when he thought of it. He began to spend more time in the prisons than in the palace. It wasn’t long before all of Asgard knew of their relationship together. 

And so Loki had been released, but kept under tight watch. They shared many nights together, murmuring gentle words of affection, lovemaking, even ridiculously romantic gestures that would be seen as a jest had the circumstances be any different. They loved each other--Thor loved his brother so much he ached whenever Loki was not around. An in the past months he had been doing a lot of aching. His brother was damaged, and very much so. His entire personality: his past, his heritage, his very emotions were turned on their heads with their relationship. It was only a matter of time before cracks began to form. Thor tried to mend them, sleepless nights curled around his brother while Loki stared at nothing. It terrified him sometimes.   
But that had only been the beginning.

“May I enter?” he asked in his usual low timbre, blonde hair matted to his face. Steve nodded once before stepping aside to let the thunderer inside. He liked the way the Captain’s house smelled. Tony’s always had to metallic a scent, but Steve’s was cozy. There was no lingering scent of mead or whirr of strange devices. Just a box of vision, a few machines; one for cleaning dinnerware, one for cooking and one to wash clothes. Everything else was cozy, though it was also luxurious, as the Metal Man had insisted it be.   
“I’ll get you something to drink. Coffee?”

“Thank you,” he murmured, watching as his friend moved to the kitchen. His chest hurt, he realized, and he lifted a hand to massage it. It did no good, as he knew it wouldn’t. The pain came from inside. The thunderer lifted his head, moving through the entryway to the main room. A sporting event was on the screen, one Steve had explained to him dozens of times before. Men wore white uniforms, standing in a strange diamond pattern and throwing a small white ball back and forth and occasionally whacking it with a carved stick. Steve loved to watch this game, and Thor held a mild appreciation for it; he liked the sound when the wood hit the soft leather.  Such a crack sounded from the box as he sat down, and a roar of a distant crowd echoed off of the walls. 

He was still dripping wet, but Steve didn’t seem to mind as he handed Thor a mug of steaming coffee. That was fast, usually is took at least ten minutes for his Midagrdian drink to come. Steve sat down beside him and looked to the screen, watching with a blank expression. Thor shifted to a more comfortable position, allowing silence to fall between them. The rain hit against the windows outside. Another crack and roar from the crowd. 

"Did he say why this time?" Steve asked quietly.

"He did not need to. He has been upset for days," his words were slow and felt misshapen on his tongue.  
the Captain sighed again, and reached beside the sofa to grab a blanket. He tossed it to Thor.

"Thank you," the thunderer murmured, wrapping himself in it.

"You shouldn't have to leave, you know. It's your own house, your own bedroom for heavens sake--" Steve started, but Thor shook his head.

"It is best this way."

"You keep saying that, Thor, but nothing's changed." The Captain’s voice was quiet, and he could hear a slight edge of frustration. He did not expect Steve or anyone else to understand them; not even Thor understood. So he simply shook his head and curled tighter into the warmth of the blanket. 

"You're a really good friend of mine and all, but I don't want to see you this often. Not like this anyway."

"I apologize," he rumbled, gut clenching at the thought he was burdening Steve.

"And stop apologizing. It's not your fault, it's Loki's." The Captain never referred to them as brothers anymore, not since Thor had announced their relations, and Asgard had done the same. Loki would always be his brother, but Thor did not care if others did not see it that way, so long as they could still be together. And he would always be protective of the Jotun prince, even if he was a world away.

"It is not his fault," Thor replied in a low growl, "The Chitauri tortured his mind, Asgard tortured his body and soul. I am assisting in his recovery, I knew the risks."

"You better have one hell of a recovery technique, Thor. ‘Cause to me it looks like it’s getting worse,” the Captain replied, flashing him something that looked akin to a scolding glare. A lick of anger flared inside him, but he took a long sip of his coffee instead of voicing it as he would have in his youth.

“It will take time,” he replied as the drink scalded its way down his throat.

“It’s been a year,” Steve replied bluntly. 

 “A year is but a speck of time for us. I do not expect this to be gone for decades.” He looked back to the screen, allowing the warm steam from his coffee to tickle his chin. “He is broken.”

His friend shook his head. “I don’t think he’s as broken as you think. But you’re going to be if you keep letting this happen.”

Now it was becoming uncomfortable to breathe, and very difficult to stop from leaving. Steve meant well, though he was absolutely clueless, and that was what kept him there. He relished in the fact that the other man did not know the happenings of Asgard, except what Thor had chosen to tell him.

The screen showed a man running for his life and throwing himself into the air. His fan-like hand reached high above his head, catching the little white ball. Steve grumbled something under his breath. Then he seemed to realize that Thor was still sitting there. 

“World Series. 1960.” As if that explained everything. “The Pirates win it. The Pirates.”

He realized Steve was trying to lighten the somber mood. His friend seldom spoke of what was happening on the screen, and usually didn’t watch it at all while they were talking. It was rude, or so Steve had said. The Captain looked to the clock, and the thunderer knew exactly what was going to be asked. 

“Is this a one night thing?”

Thor remembered the look on Loki’s face, and the way the Jotun’s entire body was tense and exposed. He remembered swollen lips saying “ _get out_ ” in a tone that resembled hatred, though he knew there was no real hatred there. 

“Yes. I shall only burden you for this night, and return to Asgard tomorrow.” A silence settled between them then, but it was not uncomfortable this time; just a normal pause in conversation as they both turned their attentions to the box of vision. 

“Three strikes,” the Captain said suddenly, looking to him. “Give him three more chances. That’s it.”

The thunderer swallowed thickly, gripping his mug tighter. The ceramic began to crack beneath his powerful grip, but he did not notice. “He will need more than that.”

“He doesn’t deserve more than that.” There was heavy silence for a few agonizing heartbeats. “I understand you need to care for him and all that, but you can’t be in a relationship like this while you’re healing him. Its just causing both of you more pain.”

Perhaps Steve was right. Loki was hurting, but they could find other ways to mend his wounds, instead of the current route. Besides, his brother would never surpass three strikes; he was improving more and more each day. Thor was confident this would be the last time he would need to spend the night here. 

“I will consider it,” he answered finally.

“No, promise me,” the Captain demanded. 

His jaw clenched. “You have my word. Three chances.”

Steve smiled reassuringly, and grabbed the black tablet that controlled the screen. With a tap, it went dark and the Captain stood up. 

“I’ve got the guest room set up for you.”  
“You knew I was coming,” Thor murmured.

“Whenever a storm rolls in at this time of night, I start a pot of coffee and get the bed made. You aren’t that subtle, Thor.” He heard a hint of a smile in Steve’s voice, and looked up to find one on his lips.  It quickly vanished. “And this is the second time this week.”

The prince looked away, gripping his mug again and taking a long, draining swallow.  Steve was right of course; this had been the second visit in a week’s time. It was better than the week before though, where he had come for one two-night stay and another two-night stay three days later. That was a good sign, Loki was getting better, he could feel it in his bones. 

“Well, I’m going to bed,” Steve announced with a yawn, “See you later, maybe. I’m going to some brunch with Tony tomorrow, so I might not be here when you wake up.”

Thor had no idea what a brunch was, but he nodded anyway. “I cannot thank you enough,” he said with a dip of his head. “For all you have done for me.”

“No sweat. It’s not like this is really my house anyway, Tony bought it as a ‘place to go for guys who get frozen in time and thrown back into society,’” Steve chuckled, stepping down the hall. Then he paused, and looked back to the thunderer with gentle sympathy. “I know you really love him, Thor.  If Loki loves you even half as much, this will all stop.” Thor stared at the thin brown ring around the bottom of his mug. “But if it doesn’t, I’ll be here. We’ll all be here.” He could hear the truth in those words, and finally turned to his friend. Steve smiled back warmly, but his eyes were sad. “Three chances. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

The door closed, and the silence came upon him again. He curled tighter into the blanket at rested his head on the sofa pillow, eyes blank as he stared into the storm outside the window. And hopefully, he thought, this was the last time he would sleep alone.


	2. To Be Unfaithful

It was not yet dawn when he arrived. His call to Heimdal was answered within minutes, and he felt the power of the Tesseract envelop him and pull him home.  The battered remains of the Rainbow Bridge appeared beneath his feet, but he took no notice, smiling like a fool at the slender figure standing there. Loki looked much better, his eyes ere alive again and void of any aggression. 

He embraced his brother without hesitation, wrapping his arms around the younger prince and pulling him close. Loki responded in kind, curling his fingers into the fabric of his tunic and pressing his lips to Thor’s neck. The elder prince hummed with happiness and held for a moment longer before leaning back to caress the Jotun’s cheek.

“I have missed you, brother,” Loki purred, nuzzling into his chest. Thor felt completely relaxed now, soothed by the pressure of his brother’s arms around his waist and the velvet tones of his voice. This was his Loki, the one he had fallen in love with.  “I missed you with all of my being.”

Thor ran his fingers through raven locks, his eyes softening. His brother looked up, and blue met green. He cocked his head ever so slightly, combing the ebony at his fingertips, “If you missed me, why did you send me away?”

Loki said nothing in response, but a faint smile came to his pale lips. His mouth pressed against Thor’s in a tender kiss, and the thunderer sighed in contentment as he returned the gesture with equal affection.  They stayed that way until neither could ignore the burn in their lungs, and the elder prince finally broke away. He smiled warmly, but Loki’s eyes turned sharp. 

“You were at the soldier’s quarters again.” The tone was accusatory. 

Thor’s brow furrowed. “I told you that is where I would stay when you asked me to leave.”

His brother did not seem to hear him. “Your lips taste…different.” The last word was a snarl, and he felt the fingers at his back turn to claws as they dug until his skin. A deep pain settled within him and he tried to kiss Loki again, but the Jotun hissed and jerked back. The claws dug deeper.

“You know that is not true,” Thor replied with an edge of annoyance.

“I am the God of Lies, brother,” the trickster spat, “I know when you are lying.”

“I would never lie to you,” he growled firmly, pulling him closer. 

“Save your excuses, I can taste what is true.” His brother shook his head, the disappointment so evident it made Thor’s heart feel as though it had been punctured. 

“Taste this then,” he murmured gently, and curled a finger beneath his brother’s chin. Their lips met softly, and he relaxed as Loki returned the kiss. Then came a bite to his bottom lip and he winced. 

“How dare you,” the Jotun snarled, “How dare you! Returning to Asgard smelling of another man!”

Thor’s grip tightened, his eyes pleading for Loki to understand that nothing had happened. “ _Three chances. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”_ He couldn’t understand why his brother would say such things. He was loyal, unbendingly loyal to his love. “I have only loved you, Loki,” he soothed, “I would never think of touching anyone else.”

“No,” his brother growled, hurt in his voice. “You spent far too long on Midgard to convince me you were merely visiting. Tell me, Thor, was he as good as I?” Loki’s nails broke skin, his powerful arms completely rigid around Thor’s torso. “Did he please you as I do? Did he? Did he?” 

The elder prince felt tears begin to form. What had happened to the man he loved so much? The pain in his back began to intensify, but he did not fight it. He should have realized that Loki would be suspicious. He should never have visited Steve; he should have gone to S.H.I.E.L.D, anywhere else but there. His hands came to frame the Jotun’s face, pain in his eyes. 

“Nothing happened, my love,” his voice wavered the slightest bit. “Nothing happened.” Loki relaxed a fraction, and the claws retracted from his back. Thor continued, “You insisted I leave you, so I did. I went to Midgard and visited the Captain. He is my friend, and offered me shelter there. I slept—“

The wild anger in Loki’s eyes returned and he tore from the thunderer’s grasp.  “You did more than sleep! You bedded him, did you not?”

There was such rage in that voice; each word snapped a heartstring in his chest. He faltered, blue eyes filled with sorrow and hurt. “No, Loki,” he whispered, “No. I beg of you to hear me.”

“I have heard enough,” Loki snapped. Thor was shoved backward, frighteningly close to tipping off the edge of the bridge. The trickster’s eyes flashed dangerously, but he only turned with a snap of his emerald cloak. A glare was cast over his shoulder and the Jotun spoke with such loathing that Thor nearly fell backward on his own accord. “You betrayed me, Thor. You betrayed us.”

An with that, Loki vanished in a glimmering haze of green. Thor fell to his knees, afraid his chest might cave. His fingers curled against the crystal of the dimly pulsing Rainbow Bridge.

Strike one.


	3. Blame

He did not search for his brother until late afternoon. Thor knew Loki had not meant what he had said, as there was no evidence. The thunderer had only put his lips on his coffee mug the night before, and he certainly did not think of Steve in that way at all. Loki knew the taste of the Midgardian drink, and that was probably what had caused it. He should have washed his mouth before returning home. It had been a foolish decision not to. 

He spoke with Frigga and Odin, and they reminded him of the Royal Guard Feast to be held that evening. Thor had forgotten all about it, but he remembered that he already had a small speech prepared for the event. He didn’t even recall finishing it, but he supposed it must have been one of the nights Loki had been out practicing his spellwork. He loved when his brother returned from practicing, he always smelled of firewood, rain, and of the forest.  Thor then spoke with Sif and the Warrior’s Three, who informed him that Loki had consigned himself to his chambers for the day. Thor took the information with a small smile.

When at last he was finished with his princely duties, he ventured to Loki’s chambers. Two royal guards stood outside the gold and green door, but nodded and stepped down the hall at Thor’s approach. 

The room was quiet and the candle flames extinguished, casting the room in shadow.  A pile of spellbooks and other readings were piled on the desk, and many more stacked beside it. Loki, however, was curled in his bed, facing the archway to his personal bedroom balcony. Thor announced his presence with a knock, but his brother did not move. The elder prince frowned, and concern started to build in his chest. 

He moved onto the bed and pressed against his brother’s back, looping an arm around his waist. His thumb stroked the Jotun’s forearm and his other hand held up the thunderer’s head. 

“Leave me,” Loki muttered, but Thor knew it was not really a command. 

“What troubles you, brother?” he asked in a low rumble.

Loki shrugged his shoulders, pulling the sheets tighter around himself.  No words came. Thor knew this was another of his brother’s moments where he needed to pick his words carefully. He did take comfort, however, in the fact that they had come this far. It used to be that Loki would not speak to him at all when he was in such a state. The elder prince placed a tender kiss on the Jotun’s temple in understanding. 

“I feel so weak, Thor.”

The thunderer clutched his brother tighter. “Are you not feeling well?” He would rush to the healing ward if Loki needed him to; or just lie with him, whichever the trickster wanted. 

Loki rolled to face him, burying his face into Thor’s chest. The elder prince wrapped both arms around his brother.

“Hush,” he soothed in a low timbre. “I am here, Loki, I am here.”

Loki nestled closer against him, his breath ghosting through his tunic. He relished in the contact. It had been a long time since they lay together like this, where he could simply hold his brother in his arms and murmur comforts in his ear, driving away the nightmares and the horrible memories that were seemingly engraved in the younger prince’s brain.

The quiet between them was calm, not tense as it had been many times before. Loki’s breathing was steady against his chest, absorbing the warmth there and using it to burn away whatever lingered in his mind. Thor lowered his head to the pillow, then nuzzled between the cushion and his brother’s head. His breath was hot across Jotun skin as he breathed in the scent of the man he loved, and Loki emitted a soft moan of approval.  A giddy excitement coursed through his veins at the noise; it usually took several minutes for the trickster to even breath at normal volume. Steve had been dead wrong, Thor thought with a grin, Loki was coming back to him for good.

As if to prove it, the trickster gently pushed him onto his back and shifted over his torso. Sweet, tender kisses began to trail down his throat and the elder prince groaned in satisfaction, gripping his brother tighter against him. Loki purred against the plane of his neck, then smoothed a hand up his chest to tug at his tunic. He pulled the fabric down, and Thor shivered at the sensation of lips against his now exposed collarbone. Each kiss was so wanted that even the lightest of them sent his nerves sparking. The trickster’s tongue flicked across his skin and a crack of desire jolted through him. It had been so long. He turned his head, craning downward to find Loki’s lips in a passionate kiss. All of his yearning and loneliness spilled into it against his will, spurred on by the pressure between them. Loki smiled against his lips and kissed back with equal fervor, but without loneliness or longing. 

The soft sound of their kisses was all that filled the room, and Thor began to feel whole again. Almost as if he needed to be reacquainted with Loki’s mouth, as sweet as it was. Then his brother pulled back, taking a tendril of spun gold from Thor’s mane and twirling it around his finger. 

“Why do you act so foolish, Thor?”

He blinked. “I do not think our love is foolish.”

Loki shook his head as though Thor were an ignorant child. “No, my love, why do you do things that are so idiotic?”

Thor’s brow furrowed.  The Jotun caressed his cheek fondly, but his eyes were lacking complete affection. “You stay nights with your Midgardian friends and return home wrapped in their scent. You know how hurt I feel when you do that.”

The thunderer’s gaze softened with guilt, “I am sorry, I did not know it would upset you so greatly.”

Loki tapped his nose with a finger.  “You always were out of tune with my feelings. Perhaps that is why I slip so easily.”

Thor swallowed, nuzzling into his brother’s neck. The Jotun chuckled softly, combing through his hair. 

“I never wish to hurt you again,” the thunderer murmured as he leaned back against the pillow.

”It is all right, Thor. I know you are nothing without me,” the trickster smiled, “It is only natural that when I am not around you are so lost.”

“I am not lost,” he replied, but his words were not as confident as he had hoped for them to be. 

“Oh? Then I suppose it is my fault that I am left in such despair, and when you return, you reek of stupidity because you are not lost.”

He did not know how to answer that, so he stayed silent. Loki didn’t seem to mind and kissed his forehead lovingly. Thor smiled slightly.

“Surely you know this is all your fault, don’t you?” The question was asked with genuine curiosity, and he looked up, confused.  “If it weren’t for you, I never would have found out my heritage, I never would have taken the throne.” Cool lips found his jaw as his brother’s smooth voice continued. “I would have no nightmares, no ill thoughts. We would truly be together. But we cannot be, because of you, Thor.”

Thor turned his head to face the window, closing his eyes tightly to stop to wave of guilt. But it hit him like a wall of saltwater, filling his nose and mouth with such force it hurt to breathe. Loki was absolutely right, it was all his fault. If inly he had not been so stupid, so arrogant and foolish. 

“No need to dwell on it now, brother. We have a feast to attend.” They kissed one last time, but Thor’s lips barely moved. His brother slid off of him and hummed quietly for a moment before using magic to change into full formal attire, crowned with his glorious horned helm. Thor sat up slowly, and smiled at his brother before standing beside him. 

“I love you, Loki,” he breathed. He moved to reach out and touch the other prince, but was frozen as Loki’s magic went to work on him. His armor settled on his body as easily as a second skin. He shrugged his shoulders, dropping his hands to his sides again as the armor jostled. His winged helm settled upon his head and he grinned as fonder memories returned to him. 

“Come on then,” Loki said with a grin of his own. He extended a hand, and Thor laced their fingers together, squeezing the slightest bit as the exited his brother’s chambers. The Jotun rolled his eyes. Thor pretended it was in an affectionate way.

Strike two.


	4. Humiliation

The joyful sounds of the feast kept his mood light, and the mead made his confidence return in full force. He sang with the others about women and mead while Loki sat beside him with a tender expression, occasionally singing along when Thor grinned at him in mid-verse. He loved public outings with his brother, and the Royal Feast was no exception. They could hold hands, kiss, (so long as it was quick enough for Odin not to say anything) and whisper to each other all they wanted, though soft words were never heard beyond the shouts of warriors who were beyond drunk. 

Food brimmed from every table, leaving little room for plates and silverware as they scooped heaping servings of meat (pork, beef, grouse, pheasant, and fish), vegetables fresh picked from the farmlands, fruits gathered from the far reaches of the forests, puddings, soups, bread that was still warm to the touch, cheeses, desserts--anything they could wish to eat was there, accompanied by mead, ale, wine and lager so that they could drink to their heart’s content. Thor graciously took all that was in front of him, whereas Loki selected light offerings. His stomach was not nearly as big as it had been before his imprisonment, thanks to starvation.  It was the same with alcohol; the trickster sipped wine from his chalice only occasionally, mirroring Frigga and her distaste for intoxication. 

None of the high-ranking officials became compromised though, for they all had speeches to make, as was tradition. Like most speeches, they were incredibly boring. So boring, in fact, that Loki drifted to sleep on his shoulder. At least, he put up a very passable disguise of doing so; Thor could feel that his breathing was too quick for him to truly be resting. He lay his head on his brothers affectionately, and Loki nuzzled against him. Wine always made the Jotun sleepy. The speeches continued down the long table, most were short and sweet, and all were eager to continue with the more entertaining festivities that would follow. 

Soon enough, it was Thor’s turn, and he gently moved his shoulder to ease his brother off of him. Loki groaned in disapproval of his action, blinking as he sat up again. All eyes were upon them now, and Thor noticed that not all were friendly. He did not care. The thunderer stood up with confidence, lifting his mead to offer the ceremonial toast that would draw the speeches to a close, as the crown prince had done for millennia. 

“Asgard’s warriors have always been a force of swift punishment for those who wrong us, and quick to aid those who stand in our favor. Royalty, commanders, and other leaders are a fine addition to our army, but without our men,” he gestured to the tables of footsoldiers that created a sea of armor and leather, “Our men bind us all. Our men are the true warriors!” A deafening cheer sounded from the crowd, from leader and soldier alike. Thor’s charisma won him huge favor once again. “And so it is in this spirit that I toast to centuries to come!” He raised his glass, and a thousand others joined him. Mead splashed onto tables as they toasted one another, and Loki ‘s wine chalice made a light clink against his tankard of lager. 

“A fine speech, m’lord!” A deep bellow caught his attention, and he smiled when he saw that the voice belong to Volstagg.

“It was the truth,” he replied with a nod.

“Short, and very effective, my prince,” a noblewoman commented with a bow of her head. 

“Yes, but it took him a moon to write it,” Loki cut in with a short chuckle.

The two others laughed, and Thor shot his brother a teasing glare. The Jotun’s eyebrows raised, “What is it, Thor? Oh yes, I forgot, I wasn’t supposed to tell them.” He turned to the noblewoman and lifted a hand to his mouth as if to whisper in her ear, “He is embarrassed about his lack of wit.” A high-pitched giggle followed, and more people turned to their conversation.

“Humorous, brother,” Thor said with a roll of his eyes.  

Volstagg sensed that the joke was over, and asked another question, ”How is it that you know the men so well? They all seem to treat you as an old friend.”

The thunderer gave a smile and a shrug. “I often spar with th—“

“He often loses in spars against them,” Loki interrupted, and another bout of laughter rolled through the table. Even Odin chuckled.  Thor blinked, but kept his smile. His hand slipped beneath the table as he took a sip of ale with the other. 

“It was just a few weeks ago when you lost against Haldor, was it not?”  
His brother was not wrong, he had lost that spar, but only because he had become violently ill. The sickness had  been so strong he was bedridden for days, not even the healer’s magic had done him much good. He had not lost because of lack of ability.

“Surely you remember that I was ill, brother,” he warned, casting Loki a glance that said to stop.

“Ill, he says!” Loki flashed a wicked grin, and the laughter filled his ears as much as the humiliation filled his blood. His face began to redden slightly. 

“Typical Silvertongue, ignoring the consequences,” he returned with a confident cock of his brow. 

Loki’s eyes did not glimmer from the affectionate tease, instead they narrowed to slits.  Thor cocked his head slightly and moved a hand to smooth over his brother’s thigh. _It was a jest, my love._

The Jotun swatted his hand away dramatically. “Please Thor,” he hissed with a smile that only the thunderer would know was not real. “Surely you can wait until the festivities are over before you try and bed me.”

The laughter was deafening, and his lips parted, but no sound came out. His eyes welled with pain, but his brother seemed to ignore it.  A slender hand traced his jaw while the laughter continued, and Thor smiled against the touch though his heart was hurting. 

Loki turned his head to Volstagg with a smirk. “He likes when I touch him here, don’t you, my love?” His chest contracted as though he might throw up. Volstagg chuckled loudly from across the table, most likely induced by mead.  His brother’s eyes traced his face as thought it were an old piece of treasure, “You should see the way he pines for me like a courtesan, I think all would find it as amusing as I do.”

It no longer mattered whether the elder prince was smiling, the rest of the crowd was either too drunk or too uncaring to notice that he stood from the table.

Loki cocked a brow as though he were surprised. Thor’s lip quivered, but he bit it to stop the trickster from noticing and making another cutting jest about it. 

“Excuse me,” he murmured, but no one was listening. He turned to face the grand balcony, where other couples were dancing with fondness and affection. This was the third strike, he knew. As much as he wanted to run from the realm and hide away in Midgard to escape this humiliation, he knew Steve and the others would tell him to leave his brother. But he knew Loki loved him deeply, he just did not always show it. That was the way his brother had always been, mischievous and concealed. It was Loki’s personality, and it was his own fault that he could not properly take the joke. It occurred to him that all three strikes had been used in one day, but he dismissed it. This day was just a bad one, that was all.

And so he gave his brother one more chance.


	5. Jealousy

He continued to ruminate on his turmoil of a relationship when someone tapped his shoulder. His heart skipped a beat as he thought that Loki had come to apologize, but came upon Sif instead. She smiled at him with good cheer, and cuffed him on the arm.

“So, thunderer, care to dance?”

Thor looked to the table where Loki was lazily tracing his finger along the rim of his wine chalice, nodding off again.  Sif took notice, and her tone became sympathetic.

“I did not laugh, if that is what you are wondering. I do not think he meant you any harm.” Her dark eyes flickered with something he could not place. “He is not healed, and it will take time. After all, love heals all wounds, does it not?” She gave a short laugh and looped her arm in his, tugging him toward the outdoor ballroom. 

 

It had been a long time since Thor had danced with anyone. Loki was against it, as they could never decide who should lead. Neither prince wanted to take the woman’s role, and when Thor suggested that it should be Loki because Loki took the woman’s role during their couplings, he was punched so hard his jaw didn’t move correctly for weeks. He subconsciously lifted a hand to rub at the spot. It still hurt sometimes when he opened his mouth too wide, but he realized now that he had greatly insulted his love, and he probably deserved it. 

Dancing with Sif was nothing new to him; they had grown up together learning such etiquette. Sif had always been the most boyish of the ladies, but Thor had seen that in a positive light and they became fast friends. It was rumored before that they would marry, and perhaps they would have if he had not found his true love.  They danced and held light conversation, discussing how their sparring had been going and what their lives had been like. It was similar to what they talked about with the Warriors Three, but different in the way they could speak without interruption. It was a balm over the wounds that Loki had inflicted. 

“I’ve found there is little one can do when being chased by a Skoffin,” Sif said with a smile, “I chose to run and it nearly took my head clean off.”

Thor gave a deep, booming laugh. “But it seems you have managed to survive, it could not have been so bad.”

“Funny that you mention it, in fact I did—“ she paused, and her eyes darted over Thor’s shoulder. He didn’t have to ask who it was; he could see it in the way her eyes flickered. “It seems someone else desires your company this evening, Prince of Asgard.”

He swallowed, but continued in his steps.  For some reason he would rather be in Sif’s company than in Loki’s. _What a fool you are!_ He snarled in his mind with such venom that it took him a moment to realize that the voice in his head was Loki’s, not his own. He took a deep breath.  Sif tightened her grip around him a little more, but it did nothing to ease the burn of his brother’s eyes on the back of his neck. 

“Standing there glowering will not be cause for me to stop dancing,” the lady warrior smiled at him. Thor’s shoulder slackened with relief and gratitude. She blinked at him, studying his face with a look akin to sadness. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked with concern.

“Does he ever hurt you, Thor?” The words caused him to stumble as he accidently stepped onto Sif’s foot. She stopped his fall with a firm push against him. Her eyes demanded an answer.

“No. He would never hurt me. Never on purpose,” he replied flatly. 

“By mistake then,” she mused and brought a hand to his cheek. He turned his head away. Loki was still watching, he could feel the cutting glare in his backside. 

“We are not some coupling of a frail woman and a warrior,” he snapped. “We are princes, we are brothers. We will always fight and settle our differences as we always have.”

Sif’s gaze darkened. “There is a difference between—“

“Yes, Sif,” he interrupted with a growl. “There will always be a difference when it comes to my brother and I. Everyone seems intent on reminding me that we will never be the same as anyone else!” His blue eyes were sharp, but his friend only saw the pain that was hidden there as well. She shook her head slowly, just like Steve always did. 

“Well,” she breathed after a moment. “I will stop my pestering. You love Loki, and so long as you are happy, I will be happy for you. “ Her smile was not real.  

“Thor.” The elder prince and his companion looked from each other to the ravenous figure of Loki Laufeyson. The trickster’s eyes were menacing as he looked to Sif. “I wish to dance with Thor.” There was no cordiality in that voice. Oddly, Thor took pleasure in how angry his brother sounded, how badly the younger prince wanted to be in his company. 

Sif’s lip twitched. “If Thor were not so infatuated with you, I would demand you wait until the end of the song, as is proper,” she hissed.  She turned back to the Aesir and they embraced, but her lips moved as they brushed past his ear. “If he ever harms you, I will kill him myself.”

Thor blinked and his eyes turned angry, but the lady warrior was walking away before he could snap something in reply. Loki would never hurt him, was that so hard to understand? But his anger melted to warmth as his brother stepped into his hold, looping slender arms around his waist.  The elder prince pulled his brother closer and they kissed passionately. He smiled as he felt the thrum of intensity in the Jotun’s lips. 

Loki broke away first, as he always did. “Why were you dancing with her?” he asked in a scathing tone. 

Thor chuckled softly, “Sif is but a friend, brother. You know that.” The younger prince didn’t look convinced. 

“She touched your cheek, she came as close to you as I do,” the Jotun accused, settling their hips together as if to reclaim him. Thor couldn’t get over the wonderful feeling it was to see Loki wanting him. He pressed their foreheads together with a light clink of their helmets. 

“I turned away from her and she was only close because I stumbled,” he murmured softly. Loki’s eyes widened slightly, then softened to deep affection. Their lips found each other’s once more, and the kiss was a reassurance. They stood like that for a few moments, eyes closed (Thor’s eyes, not Loki’s) and taking in each other’s breaths. 

A new song started, one that was slow and romantic. Sorcerers turned the torches to glow a deep pink and the dance floor dimmed as couples swayed with each other. Thor looked up with a loving smile and stepped forward to start into the dance. Then he grunted in pain as Loki kneed him sharply. The decorative metal tip at the top of Loki’s boot punctured the skin below his kneecap and sent shooting pain up his leg. 

“That hurt,” Thor hissed.  His brother smiled sweetly and lifted his arms to loop around the elder princes neck. Their lips came temptingly close, and the Jotun smiled in an open-mouth grin. 

“You may have the man’s hold, but I will be leading this dance,” Loki purred before placing a kiss on his lips. Thor let him lead, too intoxicated by that kiss to protest even as a trickle of blood ran into his boot.  They swayed gently and he nuzzled into the crook of Loki’s neck, occasionally giving soft kisses or gentle nibbles. The Jotun scarcely kissed him back. But his fingers wound around strands of Thor’s hair and tugged when the touch felt good.  They ignored the eyes on them as they danced; most of the balcony had taken pause to view the rare moment of their two princes showing public affection. 

“You are my one love,” Thor murmured, kissing against the smooth skin of Loki’s neck. It was his absolute favorite spot on his brother. But the Jotun stiffened and his arms tightened around the elder prince’s neck so much that he coughed slightly. 

Loki turned to nibble his ear, but bit it instead. Thor grunted softly, but did not protest against the pain. Then his brother moved to nuzzle into the base of his neck and he smiled, but it vanished when teeth closed around the skin of his neck. This was far to public a place to be biting him in such a way. Loki’s tongue lapped at the flesh between his teeth then gave a hard suck that made Thor flinch. 

“If I am your one love,” the Jotun growled, still not removing his bite and causing further shots of pain, “Then promise me that you will not dance with any other but me.”

“Loki, I—“ The pain worsened and he gritted his teeth.  “Fine,” he snarled, “I promise.”

“Good,” Loki smiled, releasing his neck. He was sure there was a bruise. He pulled back and shrugged out of his brother’s hold. The trickster watched him with narrowed eyes for a moment, but then pulled him close. “Come to bed with me.” The request was so genuine that he could no longer be annoyed. Loki leaned to his ear once more. “I will mend your wounds, my love.” A gentle kiss. “I know you are restless for my touch.”

Thor lifted a hand to his brother’s face. “I long for your company, but I wish to stay here longer,” he thumbed Loki’s cheekbone. “I wish to show the whole of Asgard that you are mine.”

“No, Thor,” Loki growled, “I belong to no one.  But you, you belong to me. “  
Of course. He had forgotten his brother’s stubborn need for control.  He kissed his brother’s nose.

“No one may touch you but I, do you understand? Unless you aim to make me jealous,” the trickster’s fingers curled against the fabric of his armor. He knew the clawing would come next, and he knew Sif was probably watching very carefully for just such an action. They all mistook it for selfishness, as though Loki were only doing this for himself. That wasn’t true, the trickster as doing it to protect their relationship and defend them from the very accusations that were being spewed at them. So no, Thor realized, he could not be seen dancing with others or letting them touch him. That was how rumors spread. 

“I have given you enough cause for jealousy,” Thor murmured sadly, and his brother’s eyes could no longer meet his. “Therefore I will not allow anyone else to touch what is solely yours.” He was surprised when Loki kissed him deeply in response, so much so that his eyebrows rose.  Then the trickster loosely pulled him toward their chambers, flashing a devious grin.

“Come, brother, it is time you were properly welcomed.” Loki’s voice dripped with seduction and Thor felt a rush of heat between his legs, following his brother. This was worth it, even if Loki had bitten and insulted his way into a fourth strike.


	6. Intimidation

Upon reaching Loki’s bed, Thor had forgotten about his strikes all together. He kissed fiercely; each one was a sip of the most intoxicating mead he had ever tasted. Loki gasped against his lips, wrapping his arms around the thunderer’s neck and drawing him closer to deepen their kisses. When Thor flicked his tongue along Loki’s bottom lip, the trickster responded by sliding his tongue forcefully—hungrily—into the elder prince’s mouth. Thor started into a rhythm, smoothing his hands down Loki’s spine as he did so. The trickster moaned into his lips and pressed further against him.

Thor chuckled softly as he pulled away, and Loki’s grip in his hair tightened. They stared at each other for a moment, completely captivated by the sights in front of them. The elder prince kissed gently then, and Loki returned it only as he was pulling away in an attempt to draw out the sensation. 

“I have missed you,” the trickster breathed, nuzzling his neck. “So much.”

Thor leaned into the touch, curving his neck to lay a tender kiss on Loki’s jaw. “It was only for a night, my love.”

“Never leave me again,” came the gentle reply.

Thor squeezed his brother tighter, swaying ever so slightly. “’Never,” he whispered. 

With a flick of Loki’s fingers they were both suddenly exposed, and the elder prince grinned. His brother never liked to be tender for very long. The trickster gripped his shoulders and pulled the thunderer on top of him on the mattress. Thor growled in approval and began peppering kisses everywhere he could. Gasps were felt through his lips as his hands traveled down his brother’s firm stomach, and gripped the inside of his thigh. Loki moaned with satisfaction, and spread his legs wider in invitation. 

“Not yet, my love,” Thor murmured into his brother’s chest, rubbing his thumb along the silken skin of Loki’s leg ad causing the trickster to squirm with need. 

“Yes, Thor, now,” he growled huskily, and the elder prince chuckled as he lifted his lips to brush Loki’s cheek. Their lips met and his brother nipped harshly, bucking his hips against Thor’s.  The elder prince grunted at the shooting pleasure from his member, but refused to take his brother so early. Instead he moved his hand to the heat of the younger prince and pressed a finger to his entrance. Loki hissed and rolled forward to try and force the finger inside of him.   
Thor happily obliged and began to work the tight muscle while his brother moaned and panted.  Loki’s hands were moving everywhere, and his nails dug in as Thor slipped another finger inside. He purred at the sensation, and rubbed his erection against his brother’s as a reward. The younger prince cried out and moved both hands to Thor’s hips, pulling feebly to try and bring them closer together. The thunderer grinned at the sight of his brother’s flushed face and thrust again. Loki arched against his chest and Thor mouthed over the trickster’s flexed throat, groaning at the friction. 

“Take me,” Loki panted, “Take me with your mouth, Thor.”

The elder prince paused momentarily and flicked his tongue along the skin in parting as he looked into Loki’s dusky eyes. They had never done that before. Thor had been sucked plenty of times by women in years past, but he and Loki had generally avoided it. 

“Loki…” he started uncertainly.

The trickster whined and rubbed against him in desperation.  “I want to feel your mouth where I need it most,” he pleaded 

Thor blinked. He wasn’t even sure how to do such a thing; it had taken a bit of practice to even learn how to be with a man the way they were now. His brother did not like his hesitation. 

“Thor, I am not asking,” he pressure at his hips turned to ten burning points and the thunderer growled. 

“I am not your whore,” he hissed through gritted teeth. 

Loki canted against him harshly, and the elder prince could not help but cry out at the sensation.  He wanted to fill his brother, not suck him.  “You are whatever I wish for you to be,” the younger prince managed. 

“I am your love,” he murmured, slipping his fingers out and feeling as his brother shuddered beneath him. He moved them to stimulate Loki’s shaft, stroking the hardened flesh. His brother was closer to release than he had thought. 

“If you love me, why do you not wish to pleasure me?”

“I do,” he breathed, kissing along Loki’s jaw. The trickster turned, sighing softly at the tenderness. “But I am not ready, not yet.”

He flinched at the disappointment on his brother’s face. “You had better be ready.” The tone was threatening, and not kind at all. Loki’s fingers left his hips and tangled roughly into his hair, shoving his head down with such force that Thor was forced to comply.  Instead of doing as his brother wanted, he nipped at the inside of Loki’s thigh in retaliation. Secretly, he feared taking his brother into his mouth. He would be an embarrassment, and he needed to experiment during a gentler tryst, not now when his brother was so aroused he couldn’t keep still.  The trickster cursed from his bite, and yanked his head forward. Thor had enough, and wrenched himself from Loki’s grasp with his superior strength.

“Forcing me will not win you any favors, “ he snarled. 

“I need no favors,” Loki snapped lustily, “ I need to be in your mouth.”

“No,” Thor returned defiantly, and rubbed his member against Loki’s entrance.

The trickster arced and cried out against his will.. “Damn you, take me!”

The elder prince smiled and slid inside his brother. He began to thrust in a languid fashion, soaking in all of the pants and rustling of the sheets where his brother gripped with all his might. 

“But I –ah- will not— _Thor--_ I will not forget—ah— your disloyalty.” The trickster fought for the words, rendered senseless from pleasure. Thor’s throat clenched anyway, ashamed at himself for denying his brother what he had wanted. Yet now as he rutted against him, overcome with the heady rush of desire, he could only think about what would have happened if he hadn’t been stronger than his brother. The thought sent a chill down his spine.  Loki’s desperate cry broke his wanderings, and he found that his brother had released, spilling his seed over his belly and stroking himself the way Thor usually did. Worse, Loki didn’t seem to notice that he had taken his brother’s place. 

For the first time ever, Thor wondered if he would release at all. He suddenly didn’t feel well. Loki was boneless beneath him, engrossed in his post-orgasm and too distracted to notice that the elder prince had slowed. Thor forced himself to continue, shutting his eyes and focusing purely on the friction and tight muscle around his member. His thrusts escalated in tempo, and within moments he spilled with a breathy huff. It felt pitifully lacking compared to his usual release, but his brother again paid it no mind, gasping for breath. Thor extracted himself and realized that the room was freezing. Loki’s cooling spells seemed to be in effect all year round, but it had never felt this icy before.  

He slid into the bed and stared at the ceiling. Loki finally made a noise of protest and moved to nestle next to him. Thor turned to his side, pulling the thick comforters over them and taking his brother in his arms, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. Loki hummed in response, pressing closer against the warmth of his brother. 

“Something troubles you,” the trickster murmured, tracing his bottom lip with his thumb. Thor shook his head and tried to wipe away his frown. 

“I am here with you, there is nothing that could possibly trouble me,” his voice was heavy. 

“You feel guilty, as you should,” Loki said softly, caressing his cheek. “You denied me what I desired from you. Don’t you realize that you make me feel like a fool for asking?”

For some reason, Thor had expected an apology, so he offered one instead. “I’m sorry. I have never—“

“Hush,” his brother interrupted, holding a finger to Thor’s lips. The thunderer kissed lightly against the touch. The wine was catching up to the younger prince, and he finally smiled at the sight of the Jotun’s drooping eyelids. Loki’s hand fell away as he nuzzled into Thor’s chest. The elder prince kissed the crown of his head, and held his brother close, not caring that they were both covered in each other’s essence. 

“You’ll take me the way I wish, next time…” came the soft whisper. It made his blood chill. 

“And what if I do not?” he forced himself to answer. 

“I will find someone to replace you.”

His chest clenched, and he pulled back to stare incredulously at his brother. Loki didn’t mean that. He couldn’t mean that.  The pain came over him so intensely he felt stinging tears begin to form but he blinked them away. The Jotun didn’t see though, and had already fallen asleep, slow breaths gently ghosting across his skin. Thor rolled away, staring wide-eyed at the wall for what felt like years. In his sleep Loki reached for him, finding his shoulder with a limp hand. Thor shrugged the touch away and the tears began to fall from his eyes.

The fifth strike.

He would do it, he decided. He would do whatever Loki asked. What he didn’t tell himself was that it was because he was afraid of what might happen if he didn’t.


	7. To Try and To Fail

The north wing of the palace was empty as it always was after morning. The past few days had been much calmer than his first day back, and he suspected that the first day had been so bad because Loki had missed him so greatly. Thor felt like they were lovers again, waking each other with gentle kisses each morning, nuzzling each other as they donned their day clothes, and assisting with their armor even though they could have easily done it themselves. Loki could not go ten minutes without professing his affection, pulling Thor aside before breakfast and claiming his lips. Of course it never ended with one kiss, and by the time they entered the dining hall both of their faces were flushed and their lips swollen.  

But Loki had duties to attend to, as did Thor, and morning and evening were the only times they saw each other on most days. It was difficult to be away from his brother for even half that long, but the prospect of a night in bed was enough to keep him going. They had not made love since the night of the feast, and each time they came close Thor found a way to diffuse it, but he wasn’t sure why. Loki was always a little put off, but not enough to say anything about it. Because they loved each other and didn’t need to ask, he reasoned. 

Now though, he wandered the halls of the palace in search of his mother. _“Your skills with the sword are petty, brother. Why do you even bother?”_ Loki’s voice still rang in his head. His brother had not ever been fond of fighting with swords and hammers, the trickster preferred magic and throwing knives. In the recent days Loki had been becoming more and more unsettled when he returned covered in bruises from the training arena, but that was normal for Thor.  Secretly, he liked returning after a long day of training, just so he could sit on his bed while Loki tended to his wounds. He loved the hum of magic against his skin, especially when it was by his brother’s hand.  Even so, Loki had becoming increasingly irritated from spending so much time away from his books. Thus, Thor was going to take matters into his own hands. He pressed a massive gold door open to see his mother sitting at her desk.

She turned, and raised her eyebrows in slight surprise upon recognizing her eldest son. “Thor? What brings you to my chambers?”

He entered and shut the door behind him. Frigga regarded him with a curious gaze as he came to her side.  He glanced around the room to make sure it was empty (not that anyone but Odin would be inside) and leaned close.

”I want you to teach me a spell.”

His mother blinked in surprise. “A spell? What for?”

“A healing spell. “ He tugged at his sleeve, revealing the light bruising from his earlier practice session. Frigga glanced at his arm for a moment, then with a flick of her wrist there was a book in her hand. 

“This will not be easy, Thor,” she warned. “Spelltongue is very difficult to use when you do not know the meaning.”

Thor chuckled, “I am sure with enough practice I will be able to do it.”

Frigga smiled at him in the motherly way he knew so well. She had no doubt seen that this was part of a bigger plan, and openly embraced it. The spell book opened on its own, and Thor could only look at the images on the page, sketched drawings of wounds being sealed. Despite his powers of language, it seemed that Spelltongue was enchanted against his innate power, and it intrigued him to not be able to read what was written before him. 

“All right, let us begin.” Thor found a chair and settled beside his mother, feeling like a child being read a bedtime tale. It soothed him, and as they began he was tingling with excitement. He could see the soft smile on Loki’s face already, the warm gaze and gentle eyes. Loki would be proud of him.

 

As Frigga had warned him, the spell was not easy to learn. Saying one word wrong, or putting an influx in the wrong place caused either nothing to happen or a spark of electricity at his fingers. Thor was drawing heavily on his experience with wielding lightning—his only “magical” power—in order to summon energy. He was learning a very simple spell, hardly as advanced as the ones Loki used on him, but Frigga promised that it would be enough to make the bruises disappear. He worked with her every day for a solid week, and found that magic was a very taxing skill.  Loki noticed that he was more tired than usual, and eased him to sleep without fanfare each night, kissing him softly until the thunderer was relaxed then slipping away to go about his nightly readings.  
Soon enough, he could get the spell more often than not.  It was very crude, and it took a few seconds to cause just one bruise to vanish, whereas Loki merely had to swipe a finger across. It was a start though, and the more he practiced, the better it became. Loki sensed that something secretive was going on, but only cocked his brow when Thor returned from a training session completely drained but free of bruising. 

Finally, the day came just two weeks after he had first come to his mother’s chambers. He recited the spell and pressed a hand to his arm, and when he lifted it, all the purple flesh was gone. Frigga smiled happily, and Thor felt a giddy rush of excitement as he strode to Loki’s chambers. His session had been short today, leaving him with plenty of energy to heal himself completely and to perhaps celebrate his first spell. The magic still tingled on his fingers as he walked down the hall, flexing his them and watching as a tiny spark flew from his palm. To his surprise, Loki was in front of Thor’s bedroom, a knuckle in his mouth. At the sight of the elder prince, the trickster smiled. 

“Thor,” Loki greeted warmly. 

The thunderer cocked his head slightly, moving his faintly glowing hand behind his back. “Loki, what are you doing outside my chambers?”

“You have something to show me, do you not?” The trickster stepped away from the wall, but did not move to embrace him.  

Thor could not help but smile. He motioned his brother inside. Loki hesitated, waiting until the thunderer was fully past him before entering with a wondering look.  The elder prince grinned, then pulled off his tunic. 

“Thor,” his brother said in warning, but the elder prince only grinned back at him. 

A particularly ugly purple spot was at the base of his ribcage, and Thor closed his eyes as he placed his hand over the wound. He murmured the spell and tried to contain his smile as he gently lifted his hand away. The bruise had vanished, and his fingers tingled with the remnants of magic. Loki’s eyes widened in a rare expression of surprise.

“You…learned a spell?”

Thor nodded, chuckling softly. “You were right about my swordplay, brother. I sought out Frigga and she taught me,” he looked down at his chest again. “Magic is still strange to me, but now I better under—“

“What else have you been learning?” Loki was suddenly in his face and Thor stepped back until the hard corner of his desk was sticking painfully into his backside. “Answer me!”

“I’ve shown you all I learned—“

“I know you are a fool, brother, but even a fool can learn such a simple spell in nothing more than days!” the Jotun snapped. 

Thor blinked and slowly shook his head. He had spent hour upon hour trying his best, trying to learn something that could be shared between them—even if it was something as small as a healing spell. “I was taught nothing else, brother. Please—“

“Do not plead to me, you bildgsnipe! You’ve been seeing someone behind my back, haven’t you?”

“Why must you always assume the worst?” Thor’s voice cracked. “Why do you not see the love I am trying my best to show you?”

“By refusing to bed me the way I wish, and learning spells behind my back?” the trickster seethed, “What a fine notion of love you have, Odinson! Come, let me show you love!” Loki stepped away abruptly, slamming the door open and motioning back to the hall.

Thor followed, too shocked to do anything else. He had thought this plan through; he had asked Frigga if she had liked his it and she had told him that Loki would adore it. That maybe he would even teach him a spell or two of his own. Thor had believed that everything was going to be all right, but here they were.   
They stopped in front of Loki’s chambers, and his brother cocked his head slightly as he stood in front of the door. A grin broke on his lips and the thunderer smiled weakly in response. 

“You were always so easy to fool, my prince,” there came the velvety smooth tones that made his spine tingle. “Now, please, take my lips with yours.”

He cocked a brow, unsure if Loki was serious. Had this all just been a jest? But the trickster’s eyes were warm and inviting; gentle pools of emerald. Thor tentatively stepped forward, but when his brother did not shy away he dove to press their mouths together with all the love he could pour from them.

Instead, he was met with nothing but air. He knocked his head against the door and it swung open.

Loki sat on one of his many handcrafted tables, completely exposed in the soft evening light. His head was craned back and his mouth slightly ajar. Half-lidded eyes were focused on nothing as moans escaped those pale lips that Thor loved to kiss so much.  Slender arms were tense with pleasure and his dexterous fingers were tangled in dark locks. A man was settled between his brother’s legs, head bobbing time with Loki’s sounds as he pleasured him with his mouth.

Icy claws closed around Thor’s heart and began to tear it apart with each sound that escaped Loki’s lips. His arms fell limp at his sides as his eyes twitched and began to grow glassy with tears. His eyelids became ringed with red and crystal blue was soon marred with saltwater as the he tried to comprehend.

They had shared this room together as lovers a dozen times, they had slept on the bed just strides away, damp with the sweat of their lovemaking and Loki had whispered _I love you, I love you_. The trickster arched as he came, and Thor dropped to his knees with a harsh thud, lips twitching in mortified spasms. This wasn’t happening, they loved each other; they were to rule Asgard together as one. This was a cruel trick, it had to be.

“Thor,” he looked up through the blur of his tears. Loki was stroking the top of the man’s head as though he were a pet. “If you truly loved me, it never would have come to this.” The man nuzzled against his brother’s thigh, turning just enough for him to see a burning grey eye that was looking at him as though he were a threat. Possessively. Thor fell back, catching himself on his arms. This was not the first time; he could see it in the man’s eyes. Blue irises leaked burning trails down his cheeks and he sawed his face against his bare arm, forgetting that he wasn’t wearing a tunic. 

“Y-you betrayed us,” he whispered, his lips sticking from the salty moisture that had collected there.

“No,” Loki shook his head, still combing his finger through his swain’s locks, “You did.”

Thor bit his lip to try and stifle his sobs, inwardly writhing against the cold embrace of the truth.  His brother stood, crossing over to him with his member still damp from another man’s saliva, and curled a finger beneath Thor’s chin, tipping the thunderer’s head up. 

“P-please,” Thor whispered. The trickster said nothing, instead brought his hand to caress the elder prince’s cheek. A thumb swiped some of the tears away and Thor leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. As soon as the lids met a harsh slap wrenched his head to the side. He opened his mouth to spill an apology for nothing, just to try and stop it—but Loki’s hand came across his face again. The flesh burned and stung were skin had met skin, and blood filled his mouth from where he had bit his tongue at the impact.  Every pulse of his heart sent a shockwave through his cheek.

Before he could move a hand to rub it, Loki shoved him backward into the marble, now fully dressed in his formal regalia.

“Never give me cause to do this again, brother,” the trickster spat.  The man was also dressed now, and placed a hand on his brother’s vambrace. Loki drove an elbow into his ribs in a way that was meant to hurt. The man said nothing, he only grunted. Thor realized that he did not even know who his brother’s lover was. He had never seen the man before in his life. Loki didn’t give him much time to think on that though, and delivered a brutal kick to his ribcage. Thor gave a mournful cry, but the pain came from his heart. 

The door slammed shut and he was left utterly alone in the dimming light, the faint scent of Loki’s essence still lingering in the air.  


* * *

 

Steve grabbed a rain jacket, shoving his arms into the oversized sleeves and pulling the massive hood over his head as the wind tore against his house. The television was covered in red banners and capital letters that screamed for him to go into the basement or a secure lower level room with no windows to escape the effects of a possible tornado—all stuff he had heard a dozen times before. He pulled the strings until the hood had nearly swallowed his entire face. He had been prepared for this day, he had known it was coming since the first night Thor had slept on his couch.

“Damn you, Loki,” he cursed under his breath, grabbing a heavy-duty flashlight and a medicine kit. The doorknob had barely shifted when the door was blown open by the wind and a torrent of rain splashed onto his entryway rug. The flashlight barely penetrated the suffocating blackness, but he knew where Thor would be. He also knew that this would be the last time, that he wasn’t going to let his friend get hurt anymore.

The door slammed shut behind him, and the only sound that filled the small house was the coffee maker, blinking red with a little stream of black-brown liquid dripping into a pot that was already half-full. 

 


End file.
